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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25339822">A Public Outing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoolofaBookWyrm/pseuds/FoolofaBookWyrm'>FoolofaBookWyrm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Exchanges &amp; Gifts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baz is a sad boy, Communication, Flashbacks, Healing, Heavy Angst, I'm so sorry, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mention of implied suicidal thoughts, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Simon Snow, Oblivious Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, POV Alternating, Post-Book 1: Carry On, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon, Self-Loathing, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Snowbaz Breakup, Snowbaz will always be endgame, Therapy, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, lovers to idiots, penny is a good friend, simon goes to therapy, this hurt to write</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:20:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25339822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoolofaBookWyrm/pseuds/FoolofaBookWyrm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>America was a burning pit from hell, but arriving home was no better. After sorting the trouble at Watford, Simon broke up with Baz, leaving him alone and broken.</p><p>A month later, Fiona drags Baz from the depths of a deep depression to attend a Coven hearing concerning the internet footage from the Ren Faire. Baz's fangs had been visible, and it is now known that he is a vampire.</p><p>Will Simon care enough to defend him in public and help Baz keep from being de-fanged and stricken from the magickal record? After all is said and done, will Baz and Simon be able to work out their problems to give their relationship another chance?</p><p>Baz has loved Simon for years. He's loved him hopelessly. So what's a little less hope?</p><p>~*~*~*~*<br/>A Carry On Exchange fic for SnowVeryLost</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch &amp; Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Exchanges &amp; Gifts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Carry_On_Summer_Exchange_2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Fall of Baz Pitch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowverylost/gifts">Snowverylost</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Birdy, I hope you like this! It's been a project. You said you would like to see them working through trauma, but also wanted some soft and sweet. This is a rough start, but I promise by Chapter 4 we will have some soft and sweet. The first 3 chapters are already written (just editing 2 &amp; 3 right now), and ch. 4 is outlined. So I'm not sure if the entire fic will be finished posting before the 20th but you should have most of it!</p><p>Snowbaz will <i>always</i> be endgame. </p><p>Disclaimer: I do not know the legal system at all! Plus, as an American, I *really* don't know how things work in the UK. So I'm really sorry for inaccuracies. (Partly why I went with it being a hearing, and not an actual trial)</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>Check out the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953612/chapters/65784100">Podfic of A Public Outing</a> narrated by my amazing friend <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953612/chapters/65784100">Bazzybelle!</a></strong></p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz Pitch is in bed hiding from the reality that Simon broke up with him; the Coven has a decision to make about a specific young vampire-mage; Simon and Baz see each other again for the first time since their breakup.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>BAZ</b>
</p>
<p>“Basilton,” Fiona pulls open the black-out curtains on my bedroom window. I hiss at the abrupt glaring light streaming in. </p>
<p><em> What time is it? </em> I find myself wondering, <em> what day is it? </em> </p>
<p>“Basilton,” she repeats herself, a little more sharply this time. I’m not sure when the last time I left this room was. <em>Should I be in class right now?</em> <em>Has the new term even started yet?</em></p>
<p>“You need to get up,” she pulls the covers down that I had covering my head with. I pull the nearest cushion over my head instead, but she forcefully pulls that away from me as well. </p>
<p>I grunt at her noncommittally, attempting to wrestle the covers back from her grasp. I don’t have much fight left in me at this point, and give up relatively easily. </p>
<p>“When was the last time you showered? Or ate? Jesus Christ, Basil, you need to at least perform basic self-care,” I grunt again, apparently incapable of uttering even a single coherent word despite the fact that I speak five languages fluently. </p>
<p>Now I only speak the language of Simon Snow: a series of grunts and shrugs until I get my way. “I don’t care how badly the Chosen One broke your heart, you’re a Pitch; you need to pull yourself together and start acting like one.”</p>
<p>I sigh, rolling onto my back and staring up at her unforgiving face. This is the face of the woman who hunts vampires to avenge her beloved sister’s murder; the face of the woman who spent six weeks searching for me with as many souped-up spells she could cast rather than pay a ransom; the face of the woman who spent eight years of my life plotting and coaching me on how to destroy the Mage and his reforms by taking out his heir. </p>
<p>“Fi,” I manage to croak out, my voice raw from disuse. Crowley, how long <em> has </em> it been since I last interacted with another person? I genuinely didn’t know anymore. </p>
<hr/>
<p><em> When someone shows you who they are, you should believe them. </em> </p>
<p>This is the constant thought running through my head. The only thing I <em> am </em> sure of anymore. Simon Snow is no longer mine.</p>
<p>He looked so sad that day at the Wellbelove’s. We had survived the burning pit that is America, retrieved Agatha from the hands of the Next Blood, handled the trouble at Watford when we returned— all within the span of a week. </p>
<p>He stood there in the Wellbelove sitting room, wings drooping behind him and tail thrashing from side to side, staring at my feet. My legs. But not at my face; he couldn’t look at me directly. I disgusted him— I think he finally saw it in America when I tore apart all of those Next Blood vampires. When I drained a bathtub of exotic birds without a second thought. When I very nearly let Lamb kiss me, not even realizing Simon was in the room with us. </p>
<p>Years of being hyper aware of Simon Snow’s every move and I missed him in the same room as me just because he was invisible. That should never have happened; I should have been able to smell him; I should have been the one to hear the rapid thrumming of his heart as he helplessly watched Lamb getting closer than I should have allowed. I was so lost in trying to figure out what the key was to getting back into Simon’s heart that I hadn’t even noticed Lamb flirting with me; I didn’t even recognise what flirting was from someone who wasn’t a complete disaster.  </p>
<p>He saw me then; the monster I am. Not just for my vampire parts, but for the disgusting lowly thing I’ve become. I showed him who I was, and I think he finally believed it. Simon had no more delusions about not being ashamed of what I am, that I’m alive and have a soul. If I had a soul, I never would have let myself trust a <em> vampire </em> I had just met over Simon. But I did, I wanted it so much I nearly let myself slip into that trap. My blind trust nearly lost me the people I cared for most.</p>
<p>
  <em> You should go back to America. You fit in there, you could be yourself. Lamb would take you back. You could be a King with your magic and vampire abilities.  </em>
</p>
<p>Simon Snow broke up with me, and I don’t know how to move on. I don’t <em> want </em> to move on. I just need to pull myself together enough to see him one last time; say a proper goodbye. And then I’ll rid the world of one more vampire, like I should have a long time ago. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>“Basil, you’ve been summoned,” her voice pulls me back out of my spiraling thoughts, “by the Coven.”</p>
<p>That jolts me awake. “What does the Coven want with me?” The last time the Coven paid me any mind was when they were investigating the Mage’s death. But after the shit show in America, I could only guess what they could want. Shepard had confirmed that our <em> show </em> at the Ren Faire had been uploaded to dozens, if not hundreds, of websites. Some claiming that what we did was proof that real magic and creatures exist, others claiming it was a hoax put on by the Faire to boost public interest of a seasonal industry. </p>
<p>“Your fangs were visible in those videos, you know,” she says it gently enough, but the words still strike me as if she cast <b>“Hit the floor!” </b>on me. </p>
<p>“Are they going to pull my fangs and snap my wand like they did to Nicodemus?” My voice cracks, barely above a whisper. Honestly, I knew I couldn’t outrun this. I couldn’t hide away forever from Simon’s decision and the Coven’s eventual discovery of what I am. </p>
<p>“Not yet. There’ll be a hearing first. You’re still the Pitch heir, you graduated with top marks in your year at Watford, you helped the Chosen One defeat the Humdrum, you’ve <em> killed </em> vampires, and you’ve never drank from a human.” She sits down on the edge of my bed and takes my hand. It’s almost too domestic a gesture for her, but she’s always had a soft spot for me. “These are all cards you have to play in your favour. I think you stand a good shot at getting nothing more than a slap on the wrist for not coming forward as a vampire when the bloodlust first took hold as a teenager.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” I nod, processing the information. I can’t help but think that maybe it would be better if the Coven <em> did </em> take my fangs and wand. “When is the hearing?”</p>
<p> “We’ll go in tomorrow morning. The two Magelings, as well as a few others from your Watford class, will be called in to testify to your character.” She’s studying my face, probably testing to see how I’ll react to the possibility of seeing Simon.<br/>“Simon’s not a Mageling,” I say automatically. It’s almost a reflex now, after defending my choice to be with him to my family for over a year. Even if we’re no longer together, he’s still Simon. He’s not the Mage, the Mage’s sins are not his. I will never stop loving him, and I will never stop defending the good in him. </p>
<p>“Mageling or not,” she’s still full of disdain, possibly more now that he’s broken my heart, “I need to know. Will he or the Bunce girl give testimony to make this more difficult for you?”</p>
<p>“No, never,” Simon may not be in love with me, he may not even like me enough to want to remain friends, but he’s not a liar and he knows I have never touched another person with my fangs. I know that he at least would not want to see me hurt more than I already am. </p>
<p>“I hope you’re right, because even without magic that boy still holds a bit of weight with the Mage supporters on the Coven. He could be what sways the final decision for or against you.”</p>
<p>“He wouldn’t hurt me,” I say. He wouldn’t, not in ways I didn’t deserve. He saved our entire world and I couldn’t save him. Sometimes love isn’t enough, and I wasn’t enough to get through to him. To make him understand in a way that mattered. And I broke his trust and faith in us in America. This is on me, not him.</p>
<p>Fiona has the decency not to point out the fact that I’d become an absolute hermit since he broke up with me. </p>
<p>“Go wash up, Basil,” she says, her voice leaving no room for questions. “It’s been nearly a month since you last saw him. I need you to be at your best, and you need him to keep living your life as you are. So go clean yourself up. Press your best suit. Eat a decent meal and fill up on blood. I’m going out, but I need you ready to go at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”</p>
<p>“As you wish,” I say, watching her leave my room. </p>
<p>I briefly consider sending a text to Simon or Bunce. Just so tomorrow isn’t so awkward. In the end, I decide against it. I can’t bring myself to start a conversation with either of them right now after almost a month of complete silence. It’s clear neither of them wish to speak with me, they both cut me off when Simon let me go. Perhaps they won’t even speak to me tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it through a day of questioning without breaking down. Without Simon there to hold my hand, to tether me to reality. </p>
<p>Slowly I make way to the bathroom, preparing to take a long hot shower. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and am appalled by what I see reflecting back at me. This isn’t T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The person looking back at me is a greasy washed up vampire who lost the will to live. I’m no better than the vampires we saw in Covent Gardens now. Maybe I had looked so much more powerful at the time because I was still holding on to hope of a better future— maybe I lost the last threads of what was left of my soul the day I lost the last threads of Simon’s affection. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>SIMON</b>
</p>
<p>“Don’t forget, Si,” Penny has been talking consistently since she picked me up to drive me to the hearing. I’m only hearing parts of what she’s saying, all I can think about is Baz. I’ll see Baz again today, for the first time since I let him go. I need to remember why I made that choice, it was for his own good. </p>
<p>I’m sure he’s thriving away from me, no longer tied down to the promises he made when I was still the Greatest Mage— when I was still somebody worth being with. I’m nothing now. The Coven abandoned me after I saved their world, the Mage tried to kill me just to take my magic, even my parents didn’t want me from the day I was born. I’ve never been anything to anybody, I couldn’t let Baz tie himself to me until he realised how little I’m worth too. </p>
<p>I had almost texted him last night. I opened up our last message thread. I scrolled through, reading the proof of how broken I’ve become. In reverse order. Starting from the bottom, our messages to each other had become pointed and impersonal, with days or weeks between messages. Single word answers from me. But as I scrolled up to older messages, I could see me come back to life in words and pictures. Selfies and memes and quotes from whatever book Baz was reading. Thoughts about missing the other, being unable to wait until we were together again, the things we wanted to do when we were alone together.</p>
<p>Typed out fantasies about how we’d rather spend our lonely nights apart while he was finishing his last term at Watford, back when we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves if we were together.</p>
<p>I closed out of the message app and shut off my mobile. I couldn’t text him. I didn’t even know how I would be able to face him again, knowing how much better off he is without me. </p>
<p>We enter the room where the hearing is to take place, Penny half a step ahead of me. That’s when I see him, and am reminded of the only truth I’ve ever been sure of—</p>
<p>Black hair. </p>
<p>Grey eyes. </p>
<p>The fact that Baz Pitch is the most powerful vampire-mage to ever walk the earth. That nothing can break him, not even me. </p>
<p>He’s alive, even though he’s never believed that himself. </p>
<p>And I’m still hopelessly in love with him. </p>
<p>“Simon,” Penny whispers to me when she realises I’ve stopped where I am. “Are you going to be alright?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, aces,” I reply, working to control my breathing. </p>
<p>Something is wrong. More wrong than the fact that we’re here because Baz could have his fangs pulled and wand snapped over something that happened to him at the age of five. No— something is very wrong with Baz. </p>
<p>Thin. He’s too thin. And he has bags under his eyes that even his magic couldn’t fix. His skin isn’t just pale anymore, he’s <em> grey. </em>It’s hard to reconcile Baz that walked out of the Wellbelove house a month ago with the person I’m looking at now. He’s still dead handsome, he always will be. But he’s not the same either. </p>
<p>He’s wearing another floral suit— not the same one he bought in America. This one is navy blue with bright yellow flowers on it. And a pale yellow shirt. He looks good, it’s perfect on him. Everything about Baz is always so bloody perfect. But he looks ill.</p>
<p>Is he sick? Can vampires get sick? Maybe he hasn’t been feeding as much as he needs to. I’m seriously considering pulling him aside and demanding that he take some of my blood right now when I feel Penny’s hand tugging at my elbow to herd me into our seats. She probably knows I was thinking of doing something stupid. I’ve never had much impulse control when it comes to Baz. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>PENNY</b>
</p>
<p>I swear to Merlin, if these two aren’t talking by the end of the day I’m going to shut them both up in a room and spell it locked until they figure out whatever is going on between them. </p>
<p>Simon has been nearly inconsolable since I picked him up from Agatha’s house after our return from Watford. Baz was no longer there with him, and all Simon has managed to tell me since then was that things weren’t working out between him and Baz so they broke up. I think he only told me that much because of our no-secrets pact. But I won’t press him for more, our pact was never for my benefit anyway. </p>
<p>Baz looks simply horrendous— all gaunt and sharp angles. I think Simon was about to charge over to him, but that wouldn’t do anybody any good right now. I do want them to talk out their problems, but right now— before any of us have a chance to hear what the Coven has to say and exactly what they are charging us with— I need them both to focus on the task at hand. We need a plan. I wanted to text Baz last night, make a game plan. Like we’ve always done. </p>
<p>Well, maybe not always. But at least since Baz and Simon formed their original truce. But Simon made me promise not to.<br/>The both of them still think they are so subtle. Intentionally not making eye contact. But the way they are feeling each other up with their far off looks, it’s almost like old times. They are about as subtle as a merwolf in a bathtub. </p>
<p>I lead Simon to our seats. The first thing I did when we walked in was look to see where the testimonial seat was facing. I knew I needed to pick seats in the line of view for two very clear reasons. I knew Simon would want to be able to keep me in his line of vision while he was answering questions. His thoughts always get so muddled when he’s put on the spot like this. The second reason I wanted to sit here is for Basil. I don’t know what he makes of the silence from me, but I still care about him. We’ve been through too much together, and I know how hard it is for him to talk about being a vampire. I’ve still never seen him eat without covering his mouth to hide his fangs. He’s going to need both Simon and me where he can see us. He’s too proud and stubborn to admit it, but I know him this well at least. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz sees Simon for the first time; the hearing begins; Baz is forced to tell the Coven a very important secret</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>BAZ</b>
</p><p>I noticed Simon almost as soon as he walked through the door. I was talking with Fiona, and it took every ounce of self-restraint I possess not to walk right up to him and ask him if he’s okay. Looking at Simon makes my heart break even more than it already had. I didn’t know it could. I wasn’t expecting to see him like this. </p><p>His hair is no longer the mop of soft bronze curls that I dream about sinking my fingers into, but a military buzz cut. The same cut he gave himself on the last day of term before leaving for the summer. I never understood it while we were in school, but this was his <em> care home </em>cut. The only way he could manage to keep from being infected with head lice, and perhaps the only way he could feel in control of what happened to him during the long lonely summers. </p><p>This is his depression management cut, and it’s what he’s sporting now. I can’t help but feel guilty— I am the cause of this. I’ve made Simon hate himself just as much now as when he was shipped off to those despicable homes that never showed him an ounce of compassion. I did this to him, because I’m a monster. I don’t know how to fix this, but I know I have to try. </p><p>I purposefully made an effort not to look directly at him, it hurt too much. Like watching the sun burn out and collapse.</p><p>But I could tell he was staring at me, some things will never change. It’s fifth year all over again. </p><p>I know I probably don’t measure up to his expectations. Does he even have expectations of me anymore? I drove out to the country last night and drained an entire deer, it was the most I’ve drunk in one go since I drained that cow on our escape from the Next Blood. That was well over a month ago now. I’ve only drank what I’ve absolutely needed to survive since. Even with all of that added blood in my system, my skin still doesn’t look right. And I couldn’t even use a proper cosmetic spell to completely conceal the bags from under my eyes. </p><p>Otherwise, I actually cleaned up quite well. I even put myself in the suit I splurged on after Simon broke things off with me. I thought a bit of retail therapy might help, then I had hoped that Simon would call me to try and work things out and I’d save this suit to wear for him. But he didn’t call, so here I am, wearing it for him at a hearing where my fate hangs in the balance. </p><p>Fiona touches my back now, leading us to our seats in the front row. This hearing is ultimately about me, there is no point to try skulking around in the back. I need to show all of these outdated politicians that I have nothing to be ashamed of or hide. Even if that’s not how I feel on the inside.</p><p><b>“Hear ye, hear ye!”</b> There is an older mage at the front of the room now.  I know he’s on the Coven, but I’m unsure of his name.</p><p>Fiona leans over to me, “That is the new interim head of the Coven, Mr Prescott. They’re not calling him the Mage yet, but he’s likely going to replace him once there is a majority vote in favour.”</p><p>I used to know everyone on the Coven as I was growing up, but the Mage slowly managed to replace seats held by the Old Families with his own supporters until there was nobody left on the Coven that was against his reforms. Over the last year there have been a few new members voted in to slowly shift power back to the Old Families. The Families are still outnumbered in a majority vote, but it’s a step toward correcting the upheaval left behind by the Mage.</p><p>“We are here to hear testimony in regards to the report of mage Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch being a vampire, which is a banned magickal creature in Great Britain since 1985.” I force myself to retain a neutral face as he is reading over the agenda for today’s hearing. “The recommended punishment for a vampire found residing in the UK is a removal of their fangs. Furthermore, punishment for a mage who has chosen to cross over is the destruction of their casting piece and being stricken from the magickal record.” </p><p>There are several gasps coming from the gallery. A mixture of shock, dismay, and even some approval. I can’t say I’m surprised. Some of these people must be thrilled to see the families of Grimm and Pitch being tarnished in such a way. However others remember my mother still, may have even been at Watford on the day of the attack. They’ll know I didn’t choose to <em> cross over </em>.</p><p>“First order of business, would Mr Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch please come to the front to answer a few preliminary questions,” I give him a curt nod before standing to head to the seat at the front of the room facing him. </p><p>I am thankful this hearing is not set up like a courtroom. I don’t know if I’d be able to face a crowded room, watching their disgusted faces when I have to finally admit to the entire Coven that I am a vampire. I am, however, sitting at such an angle that if I turn my body only slightly I can see Simon and Bunce. I don’t want to be weak, and I don’t want Simon to feel uncomfortable, but I’m glad they’ve sat where they did. I briefly wonder if Bunce sat them there on purpose. </p><p>“Good afternoon, young man,” Mr Prescott says to me with an exaggerated smile. I’m not entirely sure which way he leans in regard to having me defanged. Fiona reassured me the entire way here this morning that everything would turn out fine. They wouldn’t dare ostracize a Pitch, especially me, who has the favour of the Old Families as well as (I hope) the good word of the Mage’s Heir. I wanted to argue that the Coven abandoned Simon when he needed them, after they no longer had a use for him. I’m not sure how much weight his word holds anymore, but if he sways even one Coven member, that would be a blessing I don’t deserve. </p><p>“Good afternoon, Sir,” </p><p>“Can you please state your full name for the record?”</p><p>“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” I briefly thought about not using my first name. Tyrannus is a name I’ve never felt I lived up to. It was my grandfather Pitch’s name, a respected family name my mother insisted on because she imagined I would do great things. </p><p>“Tyrannus—”</p><p>“Basilton,” I correct him. I refuse to go through this day answering to Tyrannus. </p><p>“Very well, Basilton,” he begins again, “before I begin further questions, I need to tell you that given the nature of this hearing I have been authorized by the Coven to use <b>“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth!” </b>at any time during questioning if your testimony contradicts the intel we have obtained. Do you understand?”</p><p>I hear a sharp intake of breath from the gallery. Not just a general collective breath, but a very specific breath that I would recognise anywhere. </p><p>I look up towards where I know Simon and Bunce are seated. Simon’s gaze is locked on me, his eyes wide and panicked. </p><p>His hand is clenched tight in Bunces’, grounding him. Perhaps keeping him from causing a scene. The thought that Simon still cares enough to have such a reaction heartens me. I had thought that Simon was utterly disgusted with me– with the monster that he saw in me in America– but maybe there is hope that he is not completely lost to me.</p><p>“Yes, Sir, I do,” I sound more confident than I feel. But with Simon here, eyes locked on me like this, I feel like I can make it through. It doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks as long as he still believes in me. Even if he won’t take me back, maybe I can still have the remnants of a friendship. </p><p>“Would you please state for the record if you are a vampire.” Here it is, the moment I’ve dreaded every day since I woke up that August afternoon when I was five years old, with nothing but the memory of a bite on my neck to welcome me into a world where I no longer had a mother or a soul.</p><p>“Yes, I am,” I lock my eyes on Simon, imagining that I am talking only to him. If I can convince myself that this is a conversation between the two of us, I can make it through this line of questioning. He’d known I’m a vampire even before I had confirmed it, and he never minded. He might have even liked it.</p><p>“Very well,” Mr Prescott was clearly expecting this answer, because he moves on immediately. “Was becoming a vampire a personal choice or was it an involuntary outcome of an attack?”</p><p>This question gives me pause, I wonder if he is asking this question because he is indeed in favour of allowing me to go free. Everybody knows about the vampire attack on Watford, the day my mother was taken from me in an attempt to overthrow her and undermine the safeguards put on the gates. If they already knew that I am a vampire, they surely must also assume that I was turned that day in the nursery. </p><p>“I was attacked by vampires, as was my mother, at Watford on 12 August 2002.” My eyes remain locked on Simon, his lips are pulled into a tight thin line. <em> Just keep talking to him, </em> “I was not given a choice if I <em> wanted </em>to be a vampire, I was five years old. I would not choose this life for myself or anybody I care about.”</p><p>Simon’s eyes soften into something I can’t read. I’m not sure what to make of it. </p><p>“Have you ever bitten a human, for any reason, with or without consent?” </p><p>“No, I have not,” that question at least is easy enough to answer. Simon only asked me once if I would bite him, back when he was still occasionally snogging me senseless into the sofa. Before I realized that every touch was a precious commodity I should have been mentally cataloguing. It was the only time that I pulled away from him, but it may have been the beginning of the end for us. It wasn’t long after that he began to retreat into himself, when his touches began to feel more like questions rather than answers. </p><p>“I only have one final question for you Mr Grimm-Pitch,” I nod my head in understanding, “as vampires require blood to survive, how have you sustained yourself over the years if you have never drank blood from a human?”</p><p>I take a breath, <em> one more question, </em>“The thirst didn’t begin until I was fourteen. When it did start, I trained myself to hunt rats in the Catacombs and wild animals in the Wavering Wood at Watford. I had nobody to tell me what was happening to me but I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ever hurt another person,” I pause, looking to Simon. Reliving these thoughts and memories will always be difficult, and doing so in front of a crowd makes me feel like I’m suffocating. I’m back in the coffin, with only Simon Snow to keep me sane. “I had that done to me, I would stake myself before I bit a person no matter how bad the thirst became. During holidays I would hunt the woods at my family home in Hampshire.” I stop a moment to focus my thoughts. “Once I graduated from Watford, I moved into London with my Aunt where I learned that I could buy cartons of blood from the butcher under the guise that I made excessive amounts of black pudding.”</p><p>Mr Prescott seems to be considering something and writes down a few notes. </p><p>“Mr Grimm-Pitch, you may take your seat now. I reserve the right to recall you after I have interviewed a few of your peers.” He nods at me, “Mr Simon Snow. Would you please come forward to answer a few questions.” </p><p>
  <em> Oh, Simon. I’m so sorry to put you through this.  </em>
</p><p>Simon and I meet in the gallery heading in our separate directions. I have stopped in my tracks as he moves to walk past me. Then he does what I never thought he would allow me again. He pauses when we’re shoulder to shoulder, allowing his pinky to curl around mine to squeeze for a fraction of a moment. Such a small gesture, I might have wondered if it was an accident. Except I know Simon Snow, I know every touch from him has a purpose. This was reassurance— but for him or me?</p><p>“Sit with Pen— please,” he whispers it so quickly and so low I know nobody else would have caught that he said anything at all. But I heard every word, even as I’m sure I must have misheard him. But sure enough, when I look over to Bunce, she’s nodding her head in a gesture that can only be described as an invitation to join her. </p><p>I walk to where she is sitting without even giving Fiona a backward glance, filling the seat that Simon had just vacated. It is still warm, his body heat lingering as if it was waiting to welcome me. </p><p>When Mr Prescott begins asking Simon the basic introductory questions to establish his identity, Bunce leans over to whisper to me. “I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but he needs you.”</p><p>What on earth is she talking about? Simon ended things with me, he hasn’t tried to reach out, I gave him the space he wanted. He doesn’t need me, and he doesn’t want me. And yet— he asked me to sit here where he could see me. The look he was giving me before we began wasn’t the disgust or indifference I had expected. </p><p>“He broke up with me, Bunce. He couldn’t stand to even look at me or touch me anymore, I disgust him. He doesn’t need me.”</p><p>“You’re wrong, Basil. For being top of our class, you really don’t understand anything at all.”</p><p>“Mr Snow,” Prescott is asking him, “How long have you known your friend, Mr. Grimm-Pitch, is a vampire?”</p><p>“<em>Known</em>, Sir? Since—” He stops, looks from me to Penny and back to me again. “De— December.” </p><p>He swallows. </p><p>Fidgets with the cuff of his sleeves. </p><p>“2015, Sir. Wh– when we were in eighth year together.”</p><p>“Alright, Mr Snow. But we have reports in your record from your Headmaster and several Professors that you had suspected and accused Mr Grimm-Pitch of being a vampire since you were in fifth year. Is that true?”</p><p>“Yes,” He swallows, shifting a little in his seat, “I did suspect he was a vampire since fifth year, but nobody took me seriously.” He looks down to his feet and then back to me. “I didn’t have concrete proof. He never attacked me or any other students or staff while at school, so my accusations were n– nothing more than me being conditioned to attempt to d– destroy the reputation of the old houses. I know that now.”</p><p>Crowley, he is more nervous than I thought he would be. I think he worries about saying the wrong thing, condemning me further, but I’m not worried about that.</p><p>At the end of this, I need to talk to him. Between what Bunce just told me and the looks he’s given me since he arrived, I think there’s a chance we may be able to move forward together.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Light a Match</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon has a crisis while being questioned; Penny is an intimidating witness; Simon and Baz come to a realization</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>SIMON</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On the evening of 23 December 2015 you and Basilton left his home in Hampshire to make your way to Covent Gardens,” Mr Prescott continues with his questioning, “where you met with another vampire-mage. How did the two of you know where to find vampires in a city that had banned their existence?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Baz was able to sense them, Sir. Some—” I am so nervous, what if I say the wrong thing? I can’t let myself be the reason they decide to strike Baz from the record or pull his fangs. “Some ability of his. We didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> where to find them, as much as—” I pause, searching for the right wording, “we hunted down their location, Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I look over to where Penny and Baz are sitting. Penny keeps whispering to Baz, but Baz doesn’t seem to be saying much. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me yet, which is both a comfort and concern. I broke up with him, why isn’t he looking more upset with me?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a reason, Mr Snow,” Mr Prescott keeps me from being able to think too hard about Baz, “why neither of you informed the Coven about the whereabouts of a vampire lair in London?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir. Baz and me, well—” I lock on him again, knowing I should stop. I broke up with him to let him be free of me. But I am so afraid of what might happen to him after today. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If I can just focus on him, pretend I’m talking to him, maybe I won’t say something stupid. “Well, by that point I knew we would be questioned about how we knew— why we went there. We didn’t know the truth about the—” I swallow hard. Nearly two years later, and it still hurts to think about what happened the night everything changed in the White Chapel. “–the Mage, but we knew if we reported finding the vampire lair the truth about Baz would eventually come out. That  would have been enough proof for the Mage to order the removal of Baz’s fangs and to have him stricken from the record. I couldn’t let that happen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Simon. Now can you tell me, do you have knowledge of Basilton ever having used any of his vampire abilities– superior speed, hearing, healing, or thrall– to give himself an advantage over others or to harm another person?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I think about this question. He did push me down the stairs in fifth year, and I know that push was harder than it should have been. But he always pulled back his speed when playing football. He definitely has used his speed when we were fighting creatures, but only to protect people. He used his hearing a lot in the last six month we were together, I was barely talking to him then and when I did I hardly ever spoke above a whisper unless I was screaming at him. He always heard everything I said, even when I sometimes wished he didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I don’t think he’s ever used his thrall, I’m not even sure he knows how to. If he could, he probably would have used it to stop me from breaking up with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Sir,” I answered honestly. “He’s never used any of those abilities for anything other than killing other vampires or to hunt animals in the woods.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you, Mr Grimm-Pitch and your other friend Penelope Bunce travelled to America in July, did you intentionally use magic in public?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I— Sir—” I swallow hard, “I no longer have magic. The Coven knows I don’t have magic after destroying the Humdrum.” I can feel the familiar panic rising in me. I don’t have magic. I’m useless. A burden to everyone around me. Penny and Baz only stayed with me because they felt duty-bound. “I couldn’t use any magic in America.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My apologies, Mr Snow. However your wings and tail were visible in the video circulating on various websites,” He does have the decency to at least look sorry to ask about them. I wonder if he’s going to ask where they are today. Penny had to spell them in before we came here. “Those are appendages produced by magic. Did you intentionally allow them to be visible at the festival in question?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, sir,” I look to Penny. She’s glaring at Mr Prescott so hard I swear she’d set him on fire if she could. “The spell Penny uses to spell in my wings uses a bell to reverse it. A bell had rung just before we saw vampires stalking a couple of girls. Stopping the vampires seemed more important.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That decision does seem preferable. However, we would certainly have preferred to not have displays of magic circulated at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Understood, Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It has been established that you and Mr Grimm-Pitch met with vampires days before the Mage had been killed. To the best of your knowledge, has Mr Grimm-Pitch met with any other vampires since that day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck. How am I supposed to answer that? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, Sir, my vampire boyfriend met up with the King of the bloody vampires in Vegas, allowed himself to be lured to undisclosed locations where he was plied with alcohol and very clearly was going to let the Vampire King snog him into the sofa until I rudely interrupted with my rapid heartbeat. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We met with a couple vampires in Vegas, Sir,” I tell him. I can spin this, I know I can. I glance at Baz just long enough to see worry in his eyes. I doubt anybody else would notice, he’s so practised at controlling his features. But I’ve been studying everything about Baz for half of our lives. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I look back at the floor, unable to hold Baz’s gaze. It’s unnerving, knowing that this could be what convinces the Coven to be done with him once and for all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We needed them to help us find the location of the Next Blood,” I continue on, “where we thought our friend Agatha was being held captive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And was she?” Mr Prescott sounds intrigued, even though I’m sure he must have heard most of this story by now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was– being tested and experimented on.” Everything in me is screaming not to tell the Coven anymore than this. I need to tell them just enough to keep them from needing to ask more direct followup questions. “The clan of vampires there are trying to engineer hybrid vampires with magic. The vampires we met with in Vegas knew the Next Blood location, so we used Baz to convince them to show us the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good, Mr Snow. And here in England, has Basilton had contact with any vampires that you know of?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Sir” I’m confident on this point. Baz hates vampires, I had tried convincing him to find Nicodemus again shortly after Penny and I had moved into our flat. Baz refused, saying he’d rather read every book he could find than ask a vampire that </span>
  <em>
    <span>chose</span>
  </em>
  <span> to live that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr Prescott shuffles some papers, before addressing me again, “Thank you, Mr Snow. That is all of the questions I have for you for now, you may return to your seat. Miss Penelope Bunce, will you please come up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My heart is racing. Part of me hopes Baz stays sitting where he is, but I am not sure if that would be a good idea. Can I sit next to him without demanding to know what he was talking with Penny about? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Part of me wants to pull him aside and beg him to forgive me. I hope he’s been happier without me. I need to know he’s started to live the life he should have had without me holding him back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pass Penny in the gallery as I go to take her seat. She grabs my arm, “Talk to him. He’s miserable, Si. As much as you are– maybe worse.” And then she’s on her way to take the testimonial seat, head held high daring anyone to challenge her. She’s well intimidating when she wants to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I take the seat next to Baz. My heart flutters thinking about the fact that he didn’t go back to sit with his aunt. He chose to stay here, knowing I’d be sitting here. He chose me, again, after everything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, for coming to sit with Pen,” I tell him. It’s only the second thing I’ve said to him since I told him I couldn’t be his boyfriend anymore. There is so much I want to tell him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did well, Snow,” he tells me. The first thing he’s said to me since that day. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck off, Snow</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t believe you were able to complete a sentence. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He told me I did well. That probably should not mean as much as it does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” I whisper. Mr Prescott has started asking Penny about Baz. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure Baz can hear it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sit there, eyes ahead, watching Penny. Unlike Baz or me, Penny is staring Mr Prescott down most of the time, only sparing me a glance to make sure I’m still here. She glares at me, then shifts her eyes to Baz. She doesn’t even have to say a word, and I know she’s yelling at me to talk to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Baz,” I whisper, leaning into him enough to have a hushed conversation. I’m aware of every inch of space between our bodies. I want to lean into him, let him wrap his arm around my shoulders. I want to kiss his forehead and tell him everything is going to work out. I want to take his hand and never let go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Snow,” my name on his lips, even when he’s just calling me Snow, sounds so good. I’ve missed him so much it hurts, every day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you?” It’s the first thing I think to say. It’s a stupid thing to stay. We’re at a hearing publicly outting him as a vampire. I know this was his worst nightmare. This isn’t how he was supposed to be able to tell people. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Been better, Snow. But,” he pauses, glancing at me quickly before looking back to Penny, “it’s good to see you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too. But you look—” I look at him again. He’s so grey and hollowed out. It’s even worse when this close. “You look sick, Baz. Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>BAZ</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I must look worse than I thought if Simon is asking if I’m sick. He knows better than anybody that I don’t get sick. He lived with me since we were eleven years old, and not one day did I ever catch so much as a sniffle. But he can see I don’t look quite right. I probably look as bad as I did when I returned from being trapped in a coffin for six weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Do I take this opportunity to tell him the truth? What if he tells me he could never love me, and he never did?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But I remind myself that I’ve loved him hopelessly. I owe it to both of us to try, just one more time. I just have to be brave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Light a match inside your heart, blow on the tinder.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Simon, do you remember what I told you on the beach before we came back here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You— you said you would never leave Camberwell again.” I fix him with a look of pure annoyance. He cannot truly be this daft, he must know what I’m referring to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not</span>
  </em>
  <span> Camberwell, Snow. I told you I wouldn’t be happy anywhere you’re not, and I meant it. These last weeks, Snow—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not here. Baz, I can’t do this here,” he looks panicked. As if he’s the one on trial. “I just— I need to know if you’re at least okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t been even close to okay.” I can’t let this go, not now. I don’t know if I’ll ever have another chance to tell him how much he still means to me. Especially if this entire day goes south for me. “Not a day goes by that I wonder if you’re doing better without me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doing better...without you? Baz,” Looking at him now, it’s like a fire was finally lit inside him. I haven’t seen this much passion in his eyes since America. “I didn’t do this because it’s what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed. I made you leave because I was hurting you, like I hurt everyone. I wanted you to be able to grow without me holding you back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stare blankly at him for a moment. Am I hallucinating, projecting all of my own thoughts onto a figment of my imagination? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>When someone shows you who they are you should believe them,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s what you told me,” I don’t mean to sound accusing, not now when I have so much I want to tell him, but I can’t help it. “That’s what you told me. You saw me for what I was, a vampire that fit in with other vampires. You wanted me to stay behind, because I’m one of them. You saw me for the monster that I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw you for the incredibly fit and powerful vampire that you are, surrounded by others who would worship you. People you wouldn’t have to hide from– which I was right, by the way, in case you forgot why we’re here– And you learned more about yourself in 24 hours than you had in 20 years. What I saw was how much being tied to a mess like me was holding you back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve never held me back, Snow. How many times will I have to tell you? I like that you’re a mess, because I’m a mess too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because we match?” He echos my words from the Leaver’s Ball back to me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because we match.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glances up to Penny, and I do the same. Bunce is answering Mr Prescott’s latest question about any times I may have attacked Simon during our time at Watford using my </span>
  <em>
    <span>special abilities</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The scowl she is giving Prescott is enough to make a chimera cower. Penelope Bunce has always been fierce, I will give her that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think,” he has a sheepish look on his face, “he’s going to be done with Penny soon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would assume,” I glance over at him, and I recognise that look immediately, “were you hoping for a break for lunch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe. I mean, I could eat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Snow, you really are an absolute nightmare.” I find myself needing to stifle a hysterical laugh. Everything about this day has been surreal.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face slackens, I sometimes forget how much my words affect him even after nine years of being together. He spent over seven years believing that my insults were ways to put him down, when really they were always a thinly veiled cover to hide how much I love him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, you know,” I can’t stand to see that hurt look on his face. “For hurting you for so long at school. For not being able to keep things from happening the way they did at the White Chapel. For not being able to help you this last year. I want the best for you Simon, I always have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Our conversation is cut short by Mr Prescott releasing Penelope from questioning and asking me to stand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is the moment my fate is decided, and I realise how much I need things to work out in my favor today. There is a chance that I may be able to convince Simon Snow to let me be his again.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I move to stand, when Simon reaches out and puts his hand on my forearm. “It’s going to be fine, do you hear me? I won’t let them hurt you, I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I give him a tight smile, letting his words sink into me. Simon still cares about me, is willing to fight for me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr Grimm-Pitch,” Mr Prescott says once I’ve taken a step forward, “the Coven members will now deliberate before submitting their votes either in favour or against having you de-fanged and stricken from the record. We will reconvene here in thirty minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I give a curt nod, waiting for the Coven members to leave to decide my fate. Before I can decide to turn back to Simon or go back to wait with Fiona, there’s a hand on my arm dragging me towards the back of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to talk,” my mind hardly has time to catch up to my feet, before he’s pulling me through the chamber door, “and Penny will kill us both if we wait another minute.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve never heard Simon sound so insistent, and I’ve never been so thankful for Bunce’s incessant meddling. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading along! This has been a real trial to write. Your comments have meant so much!</p>
<p>Only one chapter left! I know I've managed to get these first 3 chapters out in rapid succession, but full disclosure. This last chapter, while vaguely outlined, does not have anything actually written yet. So please stick with me, it may be up to a week before the last chapter is posted. I want to see our boys get back together in a way that is sustainable as much as everyone else. And we all know that takes some time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tempered Steel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz and Simon have The Talk™ while the Coven deliberate; Penny is a fierce friend; the final decision is made unexpectedly.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is! The end!<br/>I hope you liked this Birdy! Sorry this last chapter took so long. It was a time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>SIMON</b>
</p><p>I drag Baz from the hearing chamber and down the hall, turning door knobs as we go. As soon as I find an open room I push us inside.</p><p>The room is small and dark with no windows. Baz lights a fire in his palm to check our surroundings and find a light switch. It’s been almost exactly two years since he was kidnapped, and he still can’t stand to be in the dark or enclosed spaces. </p><p>“Put that out, Baz!” The thought of him wielding fire has always been unsettling to me. One wrong move and he could go up like flash paper. “You’re flammable!”</p><p>“So is everything, Snow,” he tells me, locating the switch before turning it on. It feels comfortable, falling into this easy banter with him. Banter we haven’t shared in too long. </p><p><em> My fault </em>, I remind myself again.</p><p>It turns out I pushed us into a utility closet. Not an ideal location, not enough space to put any distance between us. But the room is better than nothing. And we’re finally going to have this talk. Thank Merlin for Penny. She practically pushed me out of my seat the minute Mr Prescott had finished telling Baz that the Coven would be deliberating, telling me that if I didn’t sort this out with him now that she’d sort it out for us. </p><p>I’m not sure how she would do that and I really don’t want to find out. </p><p>“Did you really mean what you said back in the gallery?” I ask to push this conversation forward. We don’t have much time, maybe twenty more minutes.</p><p>“Which part?”</p><p>“That you thought I broke up with you because I saw that you were a monster?” </p><p>It breaks my heart to know that’s what he’s thought since I broke things off between us. I was trying to tell him that I wasn’t good enough for him, I’d shown him that in nearly every way over the two years we were together. Longer than that— every day since we were eleven years old and the Crucible drew us together. But what he heard that day was the opposite. He heard that <em> he </em> was the one who had shown <em> me </em>he wasn't good enough.</p><p>“Of course I did. I’ve thought that every day since you kissed me that first time— in a forest surrounded by fire and my own misery. I knew one day you’d come to see me for what I really am.” The look in his eyes is so sad, the pain in him makes my heart feel tight. I did that— put that hurt there. “You’re too good for me, Simon. You’re the sun, bright and full of life. And I’m a soulless vampire, I literally need to take life to survive.” </p><p>“Baz, I’m so sorry that’s what you thought I was saying that day at Aggie’s,” I reach out to take his hand, but hesitate. Would he want that? </p><p>I scrub at the back of my neck instead. </p><p>“I’m sorry I was a terrible boyfriend. I just—” I slump back against the door, trying to make a little more space between us. There was a time when the small room wouldn’t have mattered because we weren’t able to pull ourselves away from each other. Now it feels like there is too much space and not enough all at the same time. </p><p>“You’re so bloody perfect, Baz. You adjusted so well to Uni, were making friends with your study group, you can even grow a beard any time you want! You’ve become the person I always knew you’d be when we got out of Watford, and I’m bloody normal.” I kick my foot at the floor in frustration. “I’m not even Normal, I’m a deformed half-dragon former Chosen One with nothing to offer the world. Definitely not anything to offer you. I can’t even leave the flat without you or Penny to help. I just wanted to spare you from being tied to a mess. I’m not what I was, I’ll never be what I was.”</p><p>“I didn’t want to be <em> spared, </em> Simon.” His eyebrows are knit together in agitation. “I’ve only ever wanted you since we met. Not your magic, just <em> you. </em> You’ve always said you liked my fangs, since the first time I let you see them. Why can’t you accept that I like your extra parts too? You’re not a mess, not more than I am.”</p><p>“But you’re not a mess, Baz. You’re the most bloody perfect person I’ve ever met. Everything you do is brilliant. You were the star player of the football team, you never received anything less than top marks in school, and you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”</p><p>“When have I ever been brave, Simon? I’ve been terrified of what I am since I was five years old. I was afraid of letting my feelings for you show to anyone, especially you. I worried every time you went off on a mission and agonized every time you returned bloody and beat up. Years of pining away for you, and I still never made a move to tell you how I felt for you. We’d never have ended up together at all if you hadn’t kissed me that night.”</p><p>“Baz, you’re the bravest person I know.” I take a step closer to him, still not touching him. I need him to really listen to me. “When you were five you were Turned against your will and had to watch your mother die. You went through that on your own, and had the truth of what happened to you become a topic that wasn’t allowed to be talked about, even at home.” </p><p>I slowly reach out and take his hand. I can see the pain in his eyes as I talk this through. I hope he believes that I’m here for him. “You had to learn on your own how to hunt and hide everything that is unique to what you are, you didn’t have anybody to teach you how to do any of that. You had to go all of those years keeping this secret to yourself, even while I was trying to convince everybody that you really were a vampire. I even wore that stupid cross every day just to make a point to you, and you never once tried to attack me for it. You tolerated me, because you didn’t want to hurt me.”</p><p>“I didn’t hurt you because I needed to survive and not be expelled,”</p><p>“You didn’t hurt me because you cared about me. You care about everything, even when you won’t admit it. You try to hide it, but you’re the bravest and most selfless person I know.”</p><p>“I’ve never been brave or selfless enough to let you go, even as I could see you putting a wall around yourself every time I was near you. <em> You’ve </em>always been the brave one.” </p><p>“I’m not brave, Baz. Letting you go wasn’t brave.” I swallow, forcing myself to keep facing him. “If I was brave I would have faced down everything I was afraid of and faced it. I let you go because I couldn’t keep seeing you hurting because of me.”</p><p>“The only way I was hurt by you was knowing that you were suffering and I couldn’t fix it. I didn’t know what to do— I still don’t, Simon.”</p><p>“I didn’t know what to do to fix it either, going to therapy had felt like such a waste after I first lost my magic. It was hard and I didn’t like having to think about things from when I was a kid. Growing up in care before my magic kicked in. But I—” </p><p>I shift my weight from one leg to the other, wishing I could pace the floor. I need to move. I need to run, or fight… anything to stop thinking. Instead, I let our clasped hands ground me. I trace his knuckles to give myself something to do. </p><p>“Penny forced me to go back after we got back from America. After— well, you know,” I hate talking about therapy. But I have to do this, I have to talk to him. “My new therapist isn’t bad. She’s been working with me to help me understand that a lot of my intrusive thoughts come from my years in care homes and from being essentially raised by a political extremist. She says I need to trust my friends more, let them in, and not be afraid to share what I’m feeling.”</p><p>I see Baz swallow, studying my face. </p><p>“So, do you trust me now?” It’s an earnest question, one that he sounds afraid to hear the answer. </p><p>“I want to, I think I have trusted you for a long time. It’s just. It’s still hard to trust anyone when almost everyone in my life has abandoned me. Nearly every person that I should have been able to rely on has pushed me off or used me.”</p><p>“I know I was <em> difficult </em> when we were in school,” he pulls me a little closer to him. The determination in his eyes is something I’ve come to recognise implicitly over the years. It’s the look he gets when there is a problem in front of him that he needs to solve. I’m the problem, and he’s trying to solve it by taking my hand. Being soft. By being Baz Pitch that only I ever get to see. “I never dreamed that I’d be allowed to have <em> this </em>,” he gives my hand a little squeeze, “every time I sneered, or said horrible things, or pushed back it was always because I didn’t know how to handle being so close to the one person I wanted and knew I could never have. I didn’t want to push you, not really. I’ve spent every moment since we formed our truce trying to convince you that you could trust me.” </p><p>“You have, and that is part of why I struggled so much this last year. You’ve done so much to try and help me, and I couldn’t take that. Knowing that I was so worthless, that I needed everyone to take care of me in order to function.” </p><p>“You’re not worthless, Simon. You gave up your magic, sacrificed it like the hero you are,” His voice is gentle, laced with concern.</p><p>“But I shouldn’t need to be taken care of because of that. I’ve been on my own my whole life, I’ve never needed anybody to take care of me.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to get my thoughts in order. </p><p>I hate talking about feelings. I just want to act, and block out any thoughts that are too hard to think about. But I know I need to start trusting Baz with this if we’re ever going to make things work. “I had to sign myself out of the care homes every September, take buses, a train, and a taxi to get back to Watford on my own every year. I killed a dragon when I was eleven, killed the King of the Goblins when I was sixteen, and managed to survive and stop every creature attack the Humdrum ever threw at me. Now suddenly I can’t even go to the market without asking you to spell in my wings? Can’t see pixies dancing in a field at sunset?” </p><p>I can feel my frustration rising. As if he can sense the frustration, the moment that used to mean I was about to go off, he reaches his other hand up to cup my face. I lean into, returning my eyes to his. “It was all too much— needing your magic for everything was too much. I know you were trying to help, but I couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t believe that you should be wasting your time or magic on somebody who couldn’t even manage to leave the flat on their own.”</p><p>“Simon—” he tries to stop me from going down this same spiral he’s heard from me so many times. But I have to keep going. He needs to know that I’m getting better. Enough that I might be ready to believe that we deserve another chance to be happy. </p><p>“No, Baz. Listen. Please. My therapist has helped me work through some things. Helped me to trust that when you’ve said that I’m still a mage, still somebody worthy of your time, you meant it. I should believe you, and I want to. There is so much that I want, Baz.”</p><p>He raises an eyebrow at me. That infernal eyebrow that I wanted to shave off so many times when we were in school just to spite him. That eyebrow that I had started to believe he raised as his odd way of flirting with me.</p><p>“What do you want, Simon?”</p><p>“I want,” I close what little distance is left between us, pressing our bodies together. “I want to be your terrible boyfriend. Again. If you will still have me.”</p><p>Baz sucks in a sharp breath. </p><p>
  <em> He doesn’t want me, not after what I did to him. I broke his heart, I broke us. He needs to protect himself. </em>
</p><p>“Are you sure? Are you ready for that again?”</p><p>“Yes, Baz, I am. When Penny got the call from her mum telling us about the hearing, I just—” I pull a hand up to run through my hair before I remember that I had shaved it all off. It’s a nervous habit that I never seem to be able to shake, even after all of the years of shaving it in the summers. He pulls my hand away from my head gently, caressing my knuckles with his thumb. “I’m so afraid that something is going to happen to you today. You can’t go through this alone, thinking that I don’t care about you. I care about you so much, Baz. Enough that some days I can’t handle how much I care. I’ve never allowed myself to care this much about anybody.”</p><p>I don’t know when it happened exactly, but while talking our faces have come so close together. Our mouths aren’t touching, but I can feel his breath on my lips and all I want to do is kiss him. </p><p>“Simon, may I—” </p><p>“Yes,” it’s not even a thought he needs to finish. I want it, anything he’s willing to give me in this moment. </p><p>His lips are on mine before either of us can think too hard about it. It feels so good, his cold lips on my warm ones, moving together like no time has passed since our last kiss. Like we’ve been doing this the whole time, and there hadn’t been a chasm between us when the day started. </p><p>My hands move up to cup around his neck, as his left hand reaches up to the side of my face guiding the kiss. His other hand is lightly gripping my shoulder, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go I’ll slip away.</p><p>I’ll never leave him again. Not as long as he’s willing to keep me with him. </p><p>I back him up to the door, needing to <em> do </em> something. I want to snog him thoroughly. I want to take him home and try to get back to that warm place we had been the first time we had decided to be terrible boyfriends. But we’re not those boys anymore, we’ve grown and experienced more losses than we had that first time. We can’t ever be those boys again, when everything was fast and filled with fire. </p><p>I pull away, to find Baz smiling with a dopey grin on his face that melts my heart. He smiles so rarely, it’s a gift every time he does.</p><p>“Just to be sure, you did agree to be my boyfriend again?”</p><p>“I know you’re thick, Snow. But I was assuming that I’d been quite clear,” the words should sting, but with that grin on his face, I know that he’s just back to being himself. It feels good to have that from him. Not feel like he’s trying to handle me as if I’m going to break.</p><p>“Just say it, Pitch.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes at me. “Yes, <em> Snow, </em>” he enunciates the name with clear intention, “I have agreed to be your boyfriend. Not your terrible boyfriend though, we can only have one of those in this relationship.”</p><p>“Shut it,” I laugh. I can’t help it. I lean in for another quick kiss. “But Baz, can we—” I pause, thinking about how much I need to take things slow this time. I want to make this last forever.</p><p>He rubs a hand up and down my arm, “take your time.”</p><p>“Can we maybe take things slower this time? I’d like to date you. Properly date you, like we never did the first time around.”</p><p>“I could definitely work that into my schedule,” he’s absolutely infuriating. (I’ve missed him so much.)</p><p>“It’s just… I’ve been thinking. We did everything so fast, and were under so much pressure. Literally surrounded by fires that we almost didn’t survive. It was too hot, too fast, and we broke under the tension. Like a sword that wasn’t tempered properly.” He gives me a soft smile, knowing how much I love swordplay. I’ve studied swords the way he’s studied language. “We’re not those two boys who grew up learning to hate each other in a tower.”</p><p>“I never hated you,” he whispers. </p><p>“Hush, let me finish. We’re not those boys, we’ve been through too much now. We’ve had to learn to be around each other without needing to kill or kiss one another.” I lean up, giving him a quick soft kiss. “We’ve cooled, and we’ve heated time and again. We’ve learned to temper ourselves, and we need to keep doing that. We need to take our time so we can remain strong through any battle or challenge we face.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>BAZ</b>
</p><p>When did Simon Snow become so wise? </p><p>I don’t have time to think about that too long before the alarm I had set on my mobile starts going off. </p><p>
  <em> It’s time. </em>
</p><p>Even with the Coven’s decision about what to do with me looming mere minutes ahead of us, I can’t help but smile. I don’t even bother trying to hide it behind my trademark sneer. </p><p>
  <em> Simon Snow is mine. He’s mine, and he wants to properly date me. </em>
</p><p>I switch off the alarm as Simon takes a step back, allowing me space to open the door. </p><p>“Let’s go, it’s time for me to face the music.”</p><p>“Your violin is the only music I ever want to face again after today.” I roll my eyes at him. Simon Snow is an idiot. <em> My idiot. </em> </p><p>We walk back to the hearing chamber hand in hand. Simon is holding my hand, clinging to me like he used to after defeating the Humdrum. As if he’s afraid that I’ll disappear if he lets go. And maybe he’s right, if the Coven decides to strike me and take my fangs he could lose me. </p><p>When we enter the chamber, Simon gives my hand a final reassuring squeeze before letting it go. He takes his place with Bunce while I go back to my place with Aunt Fiona. </p><p>I glance back over at him one more time before facing Fiona. Bunce is already talking Simon’s ear off, and he hasn’t stopped smiling. It looks good on him. </p><p>“So, Boyo, you appear to be in better spirits now than when I dragged your sorry arse in here this morning,” Fiona is blunt and to the point, as always. </p><p>“I am,” she may be the only living Pitch family I have left, but I’m not going to just spill my heart to her because she’s the one here with me. </p><p>“The Chosen One appears to be a little happier now too. Any reason for that sudden change in both of you?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, Fi.”</p><p>“Are you and the Mageling back together? After he broke your heart and turned you into a disgraceful mess this last month?”</p><p>“What my relationship is with <em> Simon </em> is really none of your concern. All you need to worry about is whether I’m allowed to maintain my standing as the last remaining Pitch heir.”</p><p>“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” Mr Prescott announces from his place at the front of the room, “please come forward for the Coven’s decision.”</p><p>As I stand, I glance back over at Simon. He is holding Bunce’s hand tight again, biting on his lower lip. He looks as nervous as I feel. </p><p>I step forward, standing before Mr Prescott. “Mr Grimm-Pitch, you have confirmed before the Coven today that you are a vampire. As mandated by Coven law, vampires are a banned magickal creature in Britain,” he pauses a moment, most likely for dramatic effect. “Your circumstances are unique in that you are a born mage and were Turned against your will as a child in the halls of Watford. Therefore we have taken your situation, as well as the written and verbal testimonies from your peers and former Professors and educational record, into consideration while making our decision.”</p><p>My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve on high alert. I just wish he would stop with the formalities and give the decision.</p><p>“In a most unexpected turn of events, the Coven has come to an even split in this decision. In the case of a tie, law states that the Mage shall cast a second vote to break the tie. Unfortunately, the Coven has not appointed a new Mage for leadership since our last Mage passed away.” He pauses his speech to allow this to sink in, “since Davy Llewellyn therefore still holds the title of the Mage, the final vote to be cast passes to his heir.”</p><p>Everyone in the room turns to look at Simon. He’s staring at me now, unmoving. Bunce is there giving him a firm shake and whispering something quickly in his ear, waking him from whatever trance he had been in. </p><p>“Mr Snow, as the Mage’s heir, the final vote falls to you. I do apologize that you’ve been put in such a position without proper preparation. Do you need time to think through your decision in regards to striking Basilton from the magickal record and removing his fangs?”</p><p>“No,” he says it so forcefully, it almost sounds like a desperate plea. “No, Sir, I can give my vote right now. I vote to allow Basilton to keep his fangs and remain in the World of Mages undisturbed.” </p><p>Hearing Simon call me Basilton does something funny to my heart. I don’t think he’s ever called me that within my hearing. </p><p>“Very well,” Mr Prescott announces to the room, “Let it be known that on this day, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is free to live his life as a vampire and a mage openly within the laws set forth by the Coven. You will not be permitted to take human blood, however, you will not be banished for subsisting on animal blood.” </p><p>I’m left standing there, speechless and unable to move. </p><p>There’s a hand on my arm and then Simon’s face is hovering in front of me. “Baz?”</p><p>My mouth opens and shuts.</p><p>“Baz, did you hear me?” Simon is the only thing I can think about right now. Not that I won’t be defanged. Not that I can remain in the World of Mages. Only that Simon Snow is here, he’s with me, he cast the final vote that released me from this hell. </p><p>“You’re free, really free to live your life without hiding anymore!” His lips are on mine, snapping me out of the mindless stupor I had been in. I’m kissing him back, not caring who is watching. </p><p>He breaks away, grinning like the delightful nightmare that he is. “How do you feel? You’ve been publicly outed, lived down the one thing you’ve worried about every day since you were five. You did it, and now you’re free! No more hiding!”</p><p>“How do I feel?” Why am I repeating what he’s said? Crowley, I know I can do better than this. “I feel like my entire life has been leading to this moment. It was a test, and I passed. We passed. “Simon, you’re the one who did this for me,” I take both of his hands in mine. “You cast that final vote. You freed me from this cage I was hiding in.”</p><p>“Of course I did. Baz,” he swallows, hesitating for only a minute. “Baz, I would do anything to keep you safe. I– I love you.”</p><p>“You– Simon,” his name is a whisper on my lips, “Simon, I love you too. So much, some days I thought I would die from the want of telling you.”</p><p>“I should have told you before. I’ve loved you for such a long time. I was afraid that if I said it, you’d leave me, like everyone does.” I can see tears begin to well up in the corners of his eyes, “If I said it out loud, and then I lost you, I don’t know if I would come back from that.”</p><p>“I’ve loved you every day since we were in fifth year. I’ve loved you hopelessly. There will never be a day when you lose me.”</p><p>Tears spill down his cheeks unbidden. I wonder if he’s ever been told he’s loved in his life. I am going to spend the rest of my life making sure that he knows how much I love him, showing him in every way I know how until he believes it.</p><p>Somebody clears their throat behind me. I turn to see Bunce standing there, smug as anything. </p><p>“It appears the two of you have worked out your problems. Or at least made up enough that we can go back to living our lives,” she is so proud of herself for forcing us to talk things out. I suppose after what happened between Micah and her, she didn’t want to see Simon and I end in the same way. </p><p>“You could say that, Bunce.”</p><p>“Well, if the two of you are quite done here, I think we need to go out to celebrate! You’re a free vampire now Basil!”</p><p>“Indeed, Bunce. I’m free and in love. What could be better?”</p><p>She gapes at me and then Simon. Now it’s my turn to look smug. </p><p>“Put a curry in it, Bunce. I don’t want to hear any more about it.” </p><p>I take Simon by the hand, leading us out onto the streets of London. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>THE END!<br/>My first multi-chapter I've actually finished! </p><p><strong>Disclaimer:</strong> I know that a month of therapy is not really enough for Simon to have worked through and unpacked so much of his trauma and come to terms with what he needs to communicate with Baz for a healthy relationship. Please forgive my condensing so much work he'd have to do into a month. I probably could have fleshed this out and given him more time, but I'm lazy and was on a deadline to finish. I could say I'll go back an fix the timeline later, but I probably won't. </p><p>I know I have thanked my betas, but I really need to give an extra shout out to BazzyBelle and HufflePunky for helping me get through this last chapter. It was a beast and beat me down several times. But they both stuck with me, offered a few key phrases and plot assistance found in this chapter, and ghosted on my open doc shouting encouragements at me when I needed it most. 💜💜💜</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <strong>Come say hello to me on <a href="http://foolofabookwyrm.tumblr.com/">Tumblr!</a> I love new friends!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Thank you as always to my amazing beta team. <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire">Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle">BazzyBelle</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&amp;work_search%5Bquery%5D=abbynormalj">HufflePunky</a>, and <a href="https://imhellakitty.tumblr.com/">imhellakitty</a></p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953612">[PODFIC OF] A Public Outing by Fool of a Book Wyrm</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle">BazzyBelle</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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